


Discretion

by ChatoyantPenumbra



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Jealousy, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Porn, Porn With Plot, Smut, basically Jack is in denial about liking Yusei, but could you not do it when I can HEAR YOU, meanwhile Crow is in a constant state of idc if you fuck, so instead of dealing with it like a normal person he just throws Bruno around a bit, you know canon stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 04:21:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17196431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChatoyantPenumbra/pseuds/ChatoyantPenumbra
Summary: Yusei and Bruno think they're being discreet.But they aren't.





	Discretion

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I've noticed that there's a severe lack of tool smut? Let's fix that.
> 
> This is technically Part 2 of [The Condition](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17168618) but I figured I'd make it a separate work because it's smut and could be considered a standalone chapter.

They think they’re being discreet.

 

But they aren’t.

 

The brief kisses they share by the light of the monitors in the garage have been caught one too many times when Crow wakes in the dead of the night and wanders down to the garage for some company. They’re always short, fleeting, like two timid schoolboys doing their best to keep their romance under wraps, and Crow hasn’t the heart to bring it up, especially when he feels like he’s been snooping when he shouldn’t have been.

 

He keeps it to himself, but with the way he glances sometimes at the both of them, he knows Yusei’s beginning to catch on. They’re brothers, after all, and they’ve never been good at hiding things from each other.

 

Several weeks later, Jack catches them in the bathroom, the one shared by all three of them due to the fact that their bedrooms are adjacent to it. It’s the first rain of the season, and earlier that night Yusei goes around a street corner on his D-Wheel just a little too fast, and his tires lose traction with the oil that coats the surface of the lane. The way he lands on the asphalt, the road rash that his lower back and right hip sustains turns his smooth skin into a bloody, fucked up mess. When it happens, they all get a text about how Yusei is going to be late getting home, but Bruno is the first to respond, hitting the road on that yellow thing Jack thinks is such a poor excuse for a D-Wheel literal seconds after reading the message. Crow’s at work, so it leaves Atlas to wonder what the hell his own excuse is, but the Wheel of Fortune can’t possibly fit two people. He blames Yusei for designing it like that, using it as a momentary escape of guilt.

 

Yusei and his ride are both brought home, and despite his meek nature, Bruno insists that they get him cleaned up and the wound disinfected. Yusei replies that he can manage it himself, but both Jack and Bruno know he’s just putting on a brave face, as not to inconvenience them, in that damned way that he does. In the end, Bruno goes in with him, and the door closes behind them.

 

Jack waits, pissed the hell off, from his room. He hears the shower running; he hears them talking, their voices low so he can’t make out what they’re saying. And honestly, that just pisses him off all the more. He can’t understand why Bruno is the one in there when it should be _him._ He’s known Yusei practically all his life, seen him sick, seen him hurt, seen him _naked_ all the way up until the time when he quit from Team Satisfaction, so how the hell is it that that man who’s practically a _stranger_ is in there with Yusei instead?

 

Jack fumes for thirty good minutes, and he swears he’s about to throw the damn alarm clock at his bedside at the wall if it keeps ticking, reminding him _every second_ how long it’s taking. Normally, Yusei’s in and out within ten minutes, fifteen or twenty if he’s dead tired and ends up taking a short snooze with his face pressed against the tile—which has happened much more than once—but now it’s going on thirty-five and he’s about to kick the fucking door in to see what the hell the issue is.

 

Then, the water stops, and Jack can feel his wrath coming down to a simmer from its rolling boil. More talking. He still can’t make out the words. Then, he hears a hiss of pain distinctly in Yusei’s voice. Bruno’s apologizing, apologizing more even as Yusei goes quiet, and then suddenly, there’s another sharp hiss.

 

Jack can’t stand it anymore. He doesn’t even remember leaving his room, and suddenly his hand is on the bathroom door handle and he throws it open so hard that the door recoils against the wall with such force that it damn near smacks him back in the face.

 

But he’s not paying attention to that. What he _is_ paying attention to is how Yusei’s standing there in **only** a towel, skin still dewy and full from the steam, and for fuck’s sake only his ass and dick are hidden from view because the injured hip and the entire lithe leg attached to it are uncovered for treatment. Bruno’s sitting on the toilet seat cover, his hand covered in glossy ointment and leaning in so close that Jack swears it looks like he’s about to give Yusei head if he goes any further.

 

Then, Jack’s violet eyes flicker to Bruno’s other hand, where it rests on the side of Yusei’s revealed leg. Atop it, Yusei’s own hand is lain, but he’s gripping hard—obviously, with the way he looks like he’s in excruciating pain… _or maybe trying to get him to stop._

 

—and that does it. Jack sees red and can’t even remember when he grabs Bruno by the scruff of his shirt but he remembers how hard the man hits the hallway floor when he throws him to it. Yusei’s upon him within seconds with a shout of his name, getting between them in that protective way that he does, and Jack’s inches away from spitting venom at him too for being complicit.

 

“ _Why the hell_ are you standing up for this _perverted lout?!_ ”

 

He can’t forget the way Yusei looks at him, taken back and horrified, but he can’t cover up the flush that washes over his face like he’s been caught in the act. Jack storms off and doesn’t return until the sun rises the next day, yet for the rest of the night in the city the sight of that hand so comfortably gripping Yusei’s thigh like it’s been there a thousand times before haunts him into the morning. And when Crow comes home and asks where Jack’s gone, Bruno and Yusei glance at each other in a way that he already gets the gist of what happened even without an explanation.

 

As hard as they’re trying, they aren’t discreet.

 

It happens once more long after the wound heals, when even the scabs on Yusei’s skin are beginning to fade into nothing more than scars—though only Bruno can be thanked for bending over backwards to make sure the man doesn’t reinjure himself or forget to treat it like he’s so prone to doing. That night, Jack has an event in Neo Domino and Crow’s working a double shift again, and somehow, the programmers end up caught on the lips of each other, completely forgetting about the engine they’ve been reassembling when the kisses deepen, when their hands forsake tools and bolts and metal pieces only to grasp at clothed skin.

 

Neither of them can seem to figure out how they got there in the heat and euphoria of it all, but Yusei finds himself pinned against that desk they’re always sitting at, but instead his body has become the keyboard beneath Bruno’s fingertips, obeying just like code to the whims of the man’s nonverbal commands.

 

When Bruno’s hips at last nestle between his legs and he’s reminded of the near-painful hardness in his pants, he breaks the kiss and gasps out a quiet, “Not here.” Bruno chuckles bashfully, remembering where they are, and perhaps also reminded of the consequences he’ll face if Jack comes bursting into the garage to find them like that—something that, at this point, he lives in constant fear of; it bleeds, even, into some of his worst nightmares.

 

The disassembled engine can wait, they both decide; after all, they’ll have enough time to get back to it later before the other two come home. Hands latched together, like teenagers still wet behind the ears in love, they make their way up to the third floor and stumble into Yusei’s room, their lips having already found each other once again. They’re prudent enough to lock the door behind them this time, _just in case._

 

Gods, how Yusei loves the feeling of him. As yielding as he may be, Bruno offers a certain firm safety that Fudo swears he’s never before experienced. Maybe it’s in the man’s height, being a full head taller than he; or maybe it’s in the way Bruno’s arms wrap so securely around him; in the way it steals the breath from his lungs when Borrelli kisses his neck and allows those lips to drag against his collarbones.

 

They’re upon the bed at last, his jacket is lost and his tank is being shed, and Yusei realizes it’s ultimately in the way that he never has to think about the intimacy they’re sharing; it comes naturally, simply, and despite still not quite being able to wrap his mind around the concept of sex sometimes, Bruno takes all of the anxiety away with his genuinity.

 

They chuckle at the ridiculousness of it, the need to perform completely lost even as they fumble with each other’s clothes and with the buttons and zippers of each other’s pants. Where it would be painfully obvious—and ultimately, _awkward_ —how hard they’re breathing against each other’s lips and skin, neither of them seem to notice.

 

Bruno breaks from Yusei’s lips only to crawl on his knees on the bed—which, with his long legs, is crossed in one go—towards the nightstand, and after a brief second of digging through the pens and scribbled schematics Yusei’s tossed haphazardly in there, he finds the once-before-used lubricant and fumbles to get the damned cap open.

 

Fudo can’t help but stare at him then, the reality that _this is the man he so fiercely loves_ hitting him square in the chest and knocking any of the remaining wind clear from his lungs. Borrelli isn’t graceful; he doesn’t put up false fronts; he’s merely as he is, nothing but the Bruno that he can’t ever seem to get enough of when they’re together like this. His innocence and wholeheartedness can be described as nothing other than magnetizing.

 

The lubricant spills over the man’s fingers, and in one motion the amnesiac is hovering over him, lips connecting and tongues meeting for the umpteenth time that night in a dance that’s far from over. It’s only their second time, but Yusei knows what’s worked before, so his legs spread in the same way they did the previous time to yield to Bruno’s larger hips, and those slick fingers are upon him, coating his entrance and easing into him in such a way that a moan punches out of him faster than he can fully restrain it. Bruno smiles against his lips, kissing him, and it feels entirely chaste, innocent.

 

Borrelli works him until he’s wanton—being as quiet as he can be with how aroused he is—until finally Bruno leans back, angling Yusei’s hips up in line with his own and presses forward.

 

They lose themselves. Yusei opens himself up as much as he possibly can as his body fights him, struggling as he receives every thrust not to clench every inch of him like the euphoria is commanding that he do. Bruno’s rhythm isn’t steady; it’s untrained and unpredictable, swayed by the way they kiss and the way Yusei’s ankles lock at the back of his hips. Yusei doesn’t notice the precome that’s already leaking against his abdomen, smeared instantly by the stomach on his, but _gods_ the friction of Bruno’s hips against his erection makes him feel like he might just finish _now_ if they don’t stop.

 

Yusei’s hands latch onto the back of his lover’s neck, tangling in cerulean locks like it’s the only thing that can anchor him enough to reality that he doesn’t lose it completely. He opens himself up more, allowing his legs to angle higher towards his chest. They both groan with how deep he is now.

 

“ _—more, Bruno—_ ”

 

It’s a simple request, but the man takes it and runs with it as far as he can metaphorically go. Hands locking onto Yusei’s hips, yet still being ever-so-gentle with the healing scar on his right, he hones his energy and thrusts hard, struggling to maintain a steady rhythm as Yusei’s head tips back against the sheets in the face of the overwhelming pleasure and he gasps like he can’t draw breath.

 

The sight of the duelist below him is absolutely stunning, and Bruno finds himself so driven by both lust and love that he can’t stop, Yusei beginning to canter onto his thrusts enough that Bruno can merely use one hand to guide his motions, his dominant left closing around Yusei’s length that stands proud in the air and beginning his ministrations.

 

They don’t notice in the midst of their passion how the headboard is knocking lightly against the wall, nor how the creak of the bed in time with the sound of their groans and panting announces exactly what they’re doing to anyone that may be unfortunate enough to be on that floor. Really, they aren’t loud, but the walls are thin in this old place. But Jack’s at that event, and Crow’s busy with his deliveries.

 

That is, until work concludes, and Crow returns home to find a disassembled engine in the garage when he parks. Yusei’s never been one for leaving shit everywhere, and he notices how Bruno is also missing from the scene, and he wonders if perhaps Bruno’s convinced him to go to sleep for the day. Most nights they stay up together and work, but he recalls there have been a couple of times where Bruno’s tapped out and suggested Yusei do the same when the duelist was damn near passed out cold at his runner, so it isn’t entirely out of the question.

 

Crow ventures up to the third level to set down his belongings and change out of his work clothes when he hears from Yusei’s room the very end of a gasp punch out of what sounds like Yusei’s voice. A one-two beat of knocking continues for just seconds after it, until it ceases with a sharp grunt from another voice, and Crow quickly realizes that it has to be Bruno.

 

The walls are thin. Crow enters his room with his face flushed in secondhand embarrassment as he drops his things off, and just as he’s about to leave again to escape proximity of what he **_knows_ ** the two of them were doing, he hears the muffled sound of a soft, “ _I love you,_ ” in Bruno’s voice.

 

In their room, Yusei smiles a smile that touches his eyes with a twinkle just like the gleam of starlight that streams in from the window, and he kisses Bruno with such feeling that they both know he’s saying it back as his hands clasp over the back, damp with sweat, of his lover.

 

Crow retreats downstairs again.

 

_They really aren’t discreet._

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment to let me know if you liked it!! <3


End file.
